House Divided (123 page)

Lee through his glasses studied the enemy position. “Is his left strongly held?”

“We took prisoners from twenty-five brigades in the action yesterday. There are at least a dozen brigades in front of us this morning.” And since Lee did not immediately comment, Longstreet said strongly: “General Law can hold them on our right, and General McLaws can hold them here; but if Law and McLaws attack as you direct, Meade's left will be let loose behind us.”

Lee yielded the point. “We cannot strip our right as long as their left is strongly held. That is true.” He urged in firm insistence: “Yet their center is weak. We will break it. If McLaws's and Hood's divisions must stay here, you may have some brigades from the Third
Corps; and Pickett's men are fresh.” He turned to include General Hill in his instructions, pointing across the road northeastward. “That spot where the trees are thinnest, that little clump of trees to the right of the cemetery hill, that is the spot to hit. Place your men, but keep them hidden behind the trees on our ridge here till they move. Let Heth's division form on Pickett's left, with two of Pender's in close support. Pickett will have farther to go than they, so they must time themselves to hit those people all together.”

His tone was positive, and General Hill at once departed to make these arrangements; but Longstreet said flatly:

“General, you give me at best fifteen thousand men. I don't believe any fifteen thousand men who ever carried a musket can march half a mile through converging artillery fire from front and flanks, and through the musketry of the defenders, up to the saddle of that ridge.”

“Wright took his brigade there yesterday,” Lee insisted. “If one brigade can do it, fifteen thousand men can certainly do it.”

“Ranse Wright can take his men anywhere men can go,” Longstreet conceded. “But he was driving troops already broken. Also, since he was not supported, he had to withdraw.” Bitterness over that failure to support his battle yesterday was in his tones. “But today the enemy line is re-established, with guns placed to enfilade an attack. The condition has changed, to our disadvantage.”

Other officers had drawn near, listening; and Colonel Long of Lee's staff spoke to Longstreet. “General, the guns on the hill on your right front can be silenced.”

Lee added: “And I'll give you Anderson's division if you need it, General.”

Longstreet's pride responded to the implicit compliment; for although the attack would be delivered by a force made up of only three of his brigades and nine or ten of Hill's, he was to command. Nevertheless he said honestly: “I do not believe it can be done, sir.”

Lee's head twitched in a rising irritation; but his tone was mild. “Anything is possible to this army, General! The enemy is there, and I am going to strike him.”

 

Longstreet did not reply; there was no more to be said. He saw Pickett a few paces off, waiting for orders, and at his nod Pickett
joined them. Longstreet explained what was to be done. He pointed out the tactical features of the field, turned to ask General Lee: “What point, exactly, do you wish to strike?” Lee indicated again that clump of trees a little south of the cemetery, and Longstreet said to Pickett: “I suggest you form your men behind the ridge, behind the guns. Heth's division will be on your left.” He asked Lee: “Will Heth command his men?” General Heth had taken a head wound in the battle he precipitated two days ago, and which had embroiled them all.

“No, General Pettigrew will handle Heth's division.”

Well, Pettigrew was as good a man as Heth. Except for the inevitable confusion that must result from the shift of command, the division would do as well under one leader as the other. Longstreet continued his instructions to Pickett. “And two brigades of Pender's division will support Pettigrew. How long will you need to put your men in position?”

“They will be ready at ten o'clock.”

General Lee had moved aside to listen to the sounds of Ewell's fight, two miles northeast. Longstreet called Colonel Alexander. “You must rearrange your guns, Colonel,” he directed. “Draw back the batteries on the left. You will want to deliver converging fire on the ridge just south of the cemetery. Make sure your guns do not blanket each other.”

Alexander and Pickett rode away together. As Longstreet rejoined Lee, the commanding general received a salute from General Wofford and said courteously:

“Well, sir, you made a good battle yesterday.”

Wofford flushed with pleasure. “Thank you, General. We came close to the crest of the ridge.”

“Do you think you can do it again today?”

The other spoke doubtfully. “My advance yesterday was a pursuit; but the ground over there is difficult, and they have had all night to make themselves secure.”

Longstreet saw General Lee's impatience at this new remonstrance. Wofford, feeling himself dismissed, rode away; and Lee spoke to Longstreet. “I've sent word to Ewell that you will be ready at ten; but I fear his battle will have worn itself out before that.”

“Pickett will be ready at ten,” Longstreet corrected. “But we must
wait for the guns to break a way for us. Colonel Long is of opinion we can silence the enemy batteries on the hill over there. I hope he is right. I presume the Third Corps artillery will smother the guns in the cemetery.”

“General Pendleton will see to that,” Lee assured him. “Shall we ride along your front?”

So Longstreet mounted, and as they rode, Lee spoke of the failure of Ewell's battle the day before. General Johnston's division and General Early had made a gallant and partially successful assault; but Early, finding his right in the air, had to retire.

“General Rodes was to have supported Early,” Lee explained, “but he was not prepared in time.”

“What was General Hill doing all afternoon?”

“He left Anderson's division to help you. The others were inactive.”

Longstreet bit back a sardonic word. Inactive? Yes, Hill was inactive yesterday, and Ewell too! Unless they did their part today, Pickett's men would be slaughtered. But surely they would do their part today; General Lee would see to that. True, he had sent forward no support when support was needed yesterday; but perhaps from his position Lee had been unable to follow the action on the right. Today the assault on the Yankee center would be directly under his eye; he would be able to watch every move, to send forward supporting columns at the proper time.

 

They rode at first to the right, and General Lee stopped to speak to McLaws; but Longstreet went on to tell General Law the day's plan. “When Pickett moves, you must make a hard push to pin the enemy in front of you,” he directed. “Keep them off Pickett's flank.”

Law said soberly: “General, for me to send my men at them is madness. The enemy is above us, behind two lines of breastworks. His upper line can fire over the lower at our assaulting troops. Also they've massed infantry on our right rear, so I've had to refuse my right a little. If we advance they will encircle our flank.”

Longstreet was about to remind Law that to magnify difficulties was not the road to success; but he was himself sure this day's work offered no promise, so Law could not be blamed. “Make what pressure you
can,” he insisted. “But keep your right secure.” Meade must not be permitted to find any open road around Law to this army's trains. “When Pickett advances, you and McLaws must somehow keep them off his flank.” Law's prominent eyes were more prominent than usual today, but most men of nervous temperament were a little wide-eyed in the hour before battle. Longstreet said hearteningly: “We will feel no anxiety with you here, General.”

He rejoined General Lee, but he did not repeat what Law had told him. Since Lee meant to attack, to raise new objections would be useless. They returned past the farm buildings near which he had spent the night and continued northward. Alexander had rearranged his batteries to extend for about three-quarters of a mile in an irregular line from the peach orchard down through lower ground and past a house and along the front of another orchard and up to the corner of a large mass of woodland. Longstreet thought those guns could concentrate their fire on the spot Lee wished to strike.

He and General Lee paused behind the left-hand batteries, and Longstreet studied the terrain across which the assault must be delivered. Till they moved, Pickett's men could wait here in the woods behind the guns. To the right, in a shallow ravine, a little brook rose to trickle back through the trees and go on to the west. The regiments could form in that sheltered swale; but to reach the road they would have to pass through the line of batteries and across an open field. The ground between here and the road was not sufficiently undulating to hide them from observation, nor to protect them from artillery fire; but just this side of the road there was a knoll, and beyond it Longstreet saw the roof and the upper part of a house and barn. When the men got that far, the knoll and the house and the barn would give them temporary shelter.

But to reach the house they must march half a mile through intense and concentrated fire; and to reach the house was nothing. They must go on another two or three hundred yards, up gently rising ground and with no least protection, before they came to grips with the enemy.

So these green and gently rolling fields would presently be littered with dead men, men of his corps, men who would have died in a futile and a hopeless undertaking. He turned away, unwilling to look longer upon those meadows where today so many men must die.

General Lee turned with him and they rode side by side, not speaking. Longstreet saw that the other was white with weariness; and he felt a sudden tenderness, and a sympathetic comprehension. In these two days the commanding general had lost a fourth of his infantry, and with nothing gained. From the day this army crossed the Potomac, one thing and then another had gone wrong: Stuart had left Lee blind, Hill threw him into battle, Ewell halted at the moment when victory was in his hands. There must be in General Lee today a welling sorrow which made cool judgment impossible. Pride too was at stake; pride in his own victorious career, pride in his army. That he might fail to crush those people whose armies he had so often shattered must be for Lee unthinkable; even to maneuver must seem to the commanding general a confession of inadequacy. There was the enemy, waiting to be struck. Well, he would strike them!

Yes, and perhaps Lee was right to try this last throw of the dice. It could hardly bring victory; it would be costly; but it would shake Meade and make him even more cautious than his habit, and so give them a respite and a chance to retreat. Longstreet thought with a sudden clarity that this battle they were to fight today was actually a rear guard action. Win or lose, Lee must retreat. He had not strength enough to exploit victory. Tonight, even if they broke the Union center and shattered the force in front of them, their own army would be reduced in strength, its ammunition spent. A week ago it had seemed possible to deal such a blow that the war's end would be in sight; now, after two days of fruitless and exhausting battle, there was nothing to hope for but escape back to Virginia, back to long and desperate defense.

Yet General Lee had certainly not entertained this thought. He must be telling himself this morning that if they could split Meade's center and roll back its flanks they would open the gates to Baltimore and Washington. But that was an illusion. If they were victors today they would have say fifty thousand men fit for battle; but they would be encumbered with their own wounded, and with thousands of prisoners, and they would have little or no remaining ammunition except what they might capture from the enemy. Their army would be almost as badly crippled by victory as by defeat.

Longstreet shook his head, thrusting the truth away. No matter. He
would do as much as he was able to do. His attention returned to the present task. The battle on Ewell's front seemed to be slackening; but behind them to the southward sudden firing suggested that Meade was feeling for Law's flank. Well, Law must meet that move in the best way he could.

They paused where Ranse Wright's brigade was taking position; and Lee spoke to General Wright. “General,” he suggested, “tell General Longstreet what you learned when you went over to find those people yesterday. We expect to follow your example in a little while now.”

“Why, it's easy to go over there from here,” Wright explained. “There's a ravine down in the swale beyond the road that offers a chance to correct your lines. But the ground north of here offers no good place to pause. General Posey could not even cross the road yesterday. That's what let the enemy in on my left. We were right in their guns, but we had to withdraw; and to come back is harder than to go there.” He added, harshly to hide his sorrow: “My brigade lost seven hundred men yesterday, General. You can see our dead lying out there in the sun to mark the line we took.”

Lee did not speak, and Longstreet said in a kindly tone: “Thank you, sir. I will tell Pickett to use that swale of which you speak.” As they rode on, he spoke to Lee. “Pettigrew must guard Pickett's left, General.”

Lee nodded absently and they turned back through the trees to come out behind the crest of the ridge. There, hidden from the enemy, regiments and brigades were moving into position. Longstreet paused to speak to brigade commanders, directing that the regimental officers be led through the woods to see the task before them and to note their guide points. Toward the front there rose a sudden clamor of guns. He sent Moxley Sorrel to see what was happening, and Sorrel reported that enemy skirmishers had tried to seize a house and farm this side of the road on Pettigrew's front. The Third Corps artillery was battering the house to drive them away.

“We may need those shells later,” Longstreet commented. Alexander's guns, he noticed approvingly, were silent. Colonel Alexander would use his ammunition only for a worth-while end.